Dishevelled blond hair and mud-brown eyes
by Gecko998
Summary: \\Title may change\\ Thomas, with the assistance of his friend, breaks into a rich family's home. He finds a large, padlocked door in the basement, and expecting to find it stocked with money, he breaks it open. What he does not expect to find is a kid no more than a year older than him chained to the wall and begging Thomas to end his life /based off a prompt i saw on pinterest/
1. Chapter 1

"Are you sure this house isn't armed at all?" Thomas asked for the tenth time as he opened the window quietly.

"Yes, I checked." An annoyed voice said through his earpiece.

"I mean, they have such a big house, right? And they have so much stuff, they must be pretty rich."

"And?"

"If they're so rich, why don't they have a security system?"

"Thomas. We've been over this." His friend groaned.

"And are you sure no one is home?" Thomas pressed as he peered inside the room.

"Yes. They're not home at this time of day. But if you don't hurry, they will be home before you even get inside!"

"Alright, alright." Thomas turned down the earpiece (just in case) and quietly walked down the hallway after exiting the room. The walls of the hallway were covered in an assortment of ornaments and photos. Upon examining the photos, he noticed most of them where what seemed to be photos of business agreements or awards, as most of them consisted of the same man shaking someone's hand, sometimes holding a large check or certificate.

"Oi Minho," Thomas said, speaking into the cheap earpiece, "Don't these guys own a bank or something."

He heard a faint reply, _Oops! I turned the volume down too much!_ "Sorry, could you repeat that, Minho, I turned the volume down too much."

He heard his friend groan, "I've been trying to give you directions, but you weren't responding Thomas!" He sighed, "And yes, they do own a bank, as well as a multimillion-dollar corporation. And that is why you are here right now Thomas. They are sure to not miss a few hundred dollars very much as they have billions."

"Right." Thomas walked into a room. It seemed to have been belonging to someone, but it had gone unused for possibly the last six months- judging by the way things were organised and scattered, and the amount of dust on the furniture. "Hey Minho, do these guys have a kid?"

"Yeah, they used to have a son, 17 years old, so a year younger than me."

" _Used to?_ " Thomas echoed.

"He disappeared six months ago, apparently he ran away. Police haven't tracked him down yet."

"Huh." Thomas said quietly, looking at the items in the room.

"If you've finished admiring his room, can we hurry up? You need to get down to the basement and crack open that vault." Minho's friend, who he refused to name, had tipped them off about a vault in the basement that he had been hired to install. Ever since then, Minho had been planning to break in and steal some of the money hidden in the vault, and had somehow dragged Thomas into it.

"So why do you need me to steal again?" Thomas asked as he exited the room and continued the walk down the hallway.

"It's not technically stealing, I'm going to pay them back someday, and no offense, but it's none of your business why I need the money, but I promise I'll pay you back someday too."

"Very reassuring. Are you sure there's even money in the vault?"

"What else would you store in a vault?"

"Good point."

"Okay, Thomas, the stairs should be on your right," Minho said, "Open the door and the stairs go down to the basement."

"Okay, I'll talk to you when I get out, the audio is starting to cut." Thomas replied as Minho's voice started to crackle and static filled his ear. He turned the volume off and he descended into the darkness.

He had been expecting possibly a large safe inside a room, filled to the brim with 100-dollar notes. What he hadn't expected was a vaulted door with a large rusted lock. _Okay, maybe there's a massive safe in here, or maybe this room is like a giant safe, and will have heaps of money._ Thomas shook his head, he was getting less certain about this. He knelt so he could attempt to pick the lock, and pulling out his tools, he set to work in the dim light.

It took him longer than he had expected to pick open the lock, but he finally did it. Thomas cautiously took the lock of the door. He opened the door cautiously, not sure what to expect, no longer expecting a room full of money, but definitely not expecting what he found.

The room was dark- so dark his eyes weren't adjusting, and so Thomas pulled out his phone to shine it around the room.

What Thomas saw made him almost drop his phone, and sent shivers down his spine. A blond-haired kid sat in the corner, chained to the wall, squinting from the light. His hair was dishevelled, and his brown eyes were bloodshot. He had numerous bruises on his arms and a gash under his eye. He seemed to be roughly Thomas' age, maybe a year older. From the way his ribs were showing from beneath his shirt, it seemed he hadn't eaten in a long time.

"Please," He whispered, his voice hoarse, "Please, just kill me."


	2. Chapter 2

Thomas froze, almost dropping his phone. "Who are you?" He whispered,

"Why does it matter?" The kid hissed in reply, "You're obviously not supposed to be here so do me a bloody favour and end this pain."

Thomas took a deep breath, "Alright. I can do that." _Just not in the way you're thinking,_ Thomas took a step towards him and the blond flinched from the growing light. Thomas dimmed the light on the phone, making the room darker. He knelt down next to him and reached into his pocket to find something to break the chains. Thomas turned to glance at the boy briefly, studying the chains to figure out the quickest and easiest way to get them off. _He's handcuffed, that's a great place to start._ Thomas thought, pulling out his lock-pick from his pocket.

Thomas turned towards him, "Hold out your arms... Please... I need to access the cuffs."

The boy hesitated, and then nodded slightly, holding out his arms. He winced with pain when Thomas touched him.

Thomas muttered an apology and unlocked the cuffs. They fell off with a click and the blond flexed his hands, wincing from the stiffness.

He offered his hand to the blond, "Thomas."

"What?"

"Thomas. That's my name. What's yours?"

"What is it that you are doing?" The kid frowned, rejecting the handshake, and ignoring his question.

"I'm freeing you. What does it look like?" Thomas said stiffly, offended, he continued prying the chains off the boy's leg. Thomas stood up and held his hand out again. "Come on. We need to hurry."

"Hurry?" He echoed, accepting the help to stand up.

"Well we need to get out of here before they get back." Thomas replied, "Unless, you want to stay here." He gestured around the room. "That's fine with me, I guess."

"Alright. I'll come with you." He grunted, his foreign accent growing stronger with each word.

Thomas lead the kid up the stairs and towards the window that he entered by.

"Bloody hell. This place has changed!"

"You've been here before?" Thomas questioned, turning around.

"Been here before? I bloody live here!" He frowned, opening his mouth to say something, but then he shut his mouth, and turned his gaze towards Thomas. "I want to get out of here. Now."

Thomas went to question him when he stopped himself. _Minho! I need to talk to him!_ He turned the volume up on his earpiece and turned on his mic. "Minho!"

"Thomas! You finished your heist! Did you open the vault?"

"Not exactly."

"Not exactly?"

"Well, there wasn't any money. But there's no time to explain. I need to get out of here pronto."

"Alright Thomas. Remember I'm here if you need something."

Thomas turned off his mic and motioned towards the window. "Come on. Lets go."

Thomas helped the blond climb out of the window. When he got outside, Thomas pulled his hood over his head, not wanting to be recognised (And also because he was cold). He began to walk towards the forest that bordered the house when a voice from behind him stopped him.

"Thomas."

"Yeah?" Thomas asked, turning around, _so he remembered my name,_ he thought.

"Well. Than-Thank you. Thank you for- for.." He frowned, muttering under his breath. "Never mind." He snorted, "Let's just go and get away from this bloody house."

Thomas turned back around and continued his walk back towards the forest. He glanced back to see that the blond hadn't moved from where he stood. "Hurry up! We need to get out of here!" Thomas hissed.

"No."

"What?!"

"Why am I listening to you. You're obviously younger than me. _I_ should be the one ordering you around."

" _I_ rescued you from death and torture!"

"Death would have been better than this! Whatever it is your planning. Wherever you're taking me. You _have_ no plan!"

Stung, Thomas took a step back. "I have a plan, but fine. I'm not forcing you to come with me. I just figured that since I saved your life you would at least trust me." He turned towards the forest again. "Stay here then. I'll just go to this place that I'm not planning to go to and meet up with my friend who I don't even plan on knowing." Turning on his mic, he radioed his friend. "Minho. I should be there soon. I'm heading into the forest now." He set off, walking briskly. Not checking if the blond was following or not. After a few seconds he glanced back, feeling guilty for his sudden outburst. He saw the kid limping along behind him. Thomas slowed his pace to match him and the kid muttered his thanks.

After a few minutes of silence, the blond muttered something, startling Thomas. "Thomas?"

"Huh?"

"You asked for my name earlier.. Remember?"

"Yeah."

"Well it's Newt."

"Newt?"

"Yes."

"That's your name?" Thomas echoed.

"Yes! Are you deaf or something, Tommy?"

A minute of awkward silence passed.

"Tommy?" Thomas mused.

"Shut up."

"It's okay, Newt. You can call me Tommy."

"I said shut up."


End file.
